


Earth

by Kiea, yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Art, Established Relationship, Fanart, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiea/pseuds/Kiea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smaug tries to make headway with Bilbo’s acrophobia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiea/gifts).



> A/N: "Drabble" for [kiea233](http://kiea233.tumblr.com/), request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/). I may have written the fic, but her Smaugbo art is far more beautiful; go check it out!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

  
[](http://kiea233.tumblr.com/post/78843035109/for-awsome-yeaka-her-smaugbo-is-sooooo)  
Art by [Kiea](http://kiea233.tumblr.com/)  


By the time the mountain finally cracks enough for Smaug to soar out the top, it’s so high up that no two-legged creature could ever try to scale it. The great stones twist and curve to keep snow from tumbling into the halls, but Smaug can see through the darkness of the overlapped shadows, and he bursts from beneath the ledge to enter the open air. The sky is bright, crisp, chilling and beautiful, the sun as radiant as his gold. He spreads his massive wings and takes a single leap from the mountain, hovering above it. The land below is diluted through wasps of mist and clouds, a gorgeous checkerboard nonetheless. Smaug howls a spell of fire into the cold to banish it, to wrap them in warmth. 

But he can tell as it dissipates that it’s not why Bilbo’s shivering. Bilbo’s tiny body is nestled between the spikes along his back, up at the base of his neck, little fingers curled deep in the intricate spindles. Bilbo’s smooth face is flush against his scales, and when Smaug turns his mighty head, he can see that Bilbo’s feather-soft lashes are against his cheeks, head buried in Smaug’s hide. Smaug snorts another bout of kindled steam, purring, “You are still frightened.”

Bilbo nods his head. He mumbles, “I’m sorry.” It was his idea. “I’m sorry.” That’s no reason to apologize. 

Vaguely disgruntled, Smaug snorts more steam to clear his head. He watches the intricate curves of his mountain, the trickling paths below and the foray into ground, into grass, into rolling hills and water and the foolish ruins left at his doorstep. “Perhaps a little higher,” he suggests. “The view is like no other.” But Bilbo makes a strange noise—a hiccup, he called it? And he trembles and starts to cry.

Smaug settles down instantly, falling back to the top of the mountain, heels clutching the very tips and tail wrapping firmly around it, neck curling back. He rests his muzzle against Bilbo’s young form, his nose the only thing that can really reach—Bilbo’s smaller than even just Smaug’s head. He wants to lick away Bilbo’s infinitesimal tears, but one swipe of his tongue would bathe Bilbo’s whole body in thick saliva. Bilbo shakes his head and murmurs, “Sorry, I just...” He takes a breath. “It’s so... _high._ ”

“And you don’t like heights, little one.” Smaug sighs: a dragon’s pity that bellows and knocks over snow. “There is no shame in that.”

Bilbo makes a strained laughing noise that might be bitter. “I’m dating a bloody dragon, and I can’t handle heights! How is that going to work?”

“The same way a hobbit manages to date a dragon,” Smaug reasons. He grins when Bilbo chances a look at him. Bilbo returns a weak smile, then foolishly looks out, perhaps sees the clouds, and scrunches his eyes closed again. 

“We will get you through this,” Smaug soothes. “It was a noble idea of you to try, but you can’t expect results right away, and you can’t expect it to ever disappear. We can try to temper it another time, bit by bit, if you like.”

Bilbo nods. He looks like he wants to agree, but then another dribble of water runs down his cheek, and he rubs it away, sniffing. He _is_ a brave thing, but all creatures have their limits. He mutters, “Too high.” And Smaug nods his head in concession; the tip of a mountain is one hell of a place to start. 

Because Bilbo seems no more comforted here, Smaug tilts his body, ignoring Bilbo’s ‘eep’ of surprise. Smaug’s palm is there to catch him when he slides off, tumbling safely into Smaug’s clutches, and Smaug curls his claws around Bilbo, careful of the points. Bilbo’s held safely in his hand, unable to see the world so very, very far below them. 

Then Smaug rises again, only to pivot down beneath the ledge from whence they came, twisting and turning through the vertical caverns that dip below. Only when he reaches the main chamber does he unfurl the true width of his wings, snap back to full glory and settle on the ground. He opens his hand and lets his Bilbo stumble out, rolling into the bed of coins. In the glimmering firelight of lit torches, the golden glow glistens off Bilbo’s bare skin. He looks better in here, done true justice, but of course, he always looks better when he isn’t curled into a sobbing ball of terror. 

He stretches out and sighs around another sniff, muttering in general, “That was a stupid idea.”

Smaug doesn’t feel the need to repeat himself. He’ll speak to Bilbo when the fear has worn off and think of another way to help. He _will_ help. In the meantime, he nuzzles his great head against Bilbo’s side and purrs, “And now you’re safe on the ground.”

Bilbo presses up against him. There’s still slight tremours, still quickened breathing, but Bilbo is _safe_ now, and he must know that. With another warm exhale, Smaug lifts his head, enjoying the way that Bilbo’s arms reach out for him, unwilling to let him go. 

He opens his mouth and runs the tip of his tongue all up Bilbo’s pretty body, feeling _every_ little nick, every curve. Bilbo gasps, perhaps in surprise and perhaps in pleasure. He squirms, and Smaug runs his tongue back down, a growl ripping from the back of his throat. Bilbo moans right back—a ringing, beautiful sound. 

Smaug uses one claw to nudge him over, and Bilbo, ever the good little mate, rolls onto his stomach. Smaug licks him hard and forces his ass in the air, licks it harder and presses that same claw carefully against it, the very end rubbing between Bilbo’s cheeks. Bilbo gasps again and arches, groaning, “What... what are you doing...?”

“Distracting you from your fear,” Smaug purrs. “You were brave; here is your reward...”

Bilbo laughs hollowly, but it cuts off in a sharp whine as Smaug’s rubbing grows more intense, presses harder. “Y-you’re... trying to make me associate heights... with sex...?”

“I am trying to alleviate your tears.” Smaug drops his hand and returns to his tongue, wrapping it tightly around Bilbo’s warm body. Bilbo bucks against him, whimpering prettily. 

Smaug rolls him back over and checks his face—he isn’t crying anymore. 

He bites his lip and opens his arms. Smaug presses his muzzle down into them and assures his courageous adventurer, “We will try another time.”

“You’ll love me in the meantime?”

“I do love you in the meantime.”

He can feel Bilbo’s smile through the kiss that presses to his scales. 

Then he sets in on Bilbo like the animal he is: a happy dragon with his mate in their fearless mountain of treasures. Bilbo is strong and beautiful, and in the heights of pleasure, there’s nothing but trust and sanctity.


End file.
